


The Boy Who Loved a Dragon

by Thursday26



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), race to the edge - Fandom
Genre: Blood Eagle, Character Death, Established Relationship, Gore, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Mob Mentality, Other, Permanent Character Death, Public Execution, Spitelout Bashing, Torture, Tragedy, maybe character bashing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-22 23:27:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17069219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thursday26/pseuds/Thursday26
Summary: Hiccup and the Riders come back to Berk for Ostara. Hiccup and Toothless go off to celebrate together and get caught.





	The Boy Who Loved a Dragon

**Author's Note:**

> HEED THE TAGS! i AM TOTALLY SERIOUS! This is NOT a happy story by any means! If you don't heed my warning, heed the warning of the storyteller! This is a very very very very dark fic! People die! I cried while writing and editing this! If any of the tags make you squeamish, I would suggest avoiding this. I will not be offended! Take care of yourself first! I am going to link another fic of mine that is much, much happier, not the tone of this at all, if you would rather something happy, or if you need something happy after this. I will also Include the link in the end notes if you make it to the end! 
> 
> [ In Which New Territories Are Explored](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17068946) [also an explicit fic, and very happy]
> 
> So you have been fairly warned, I assume. Please, please, give the tags one more look before continuing on. Otherwise... good luck

An old woman sits in the hall, surrounded by children. They’re too young to be outside, helping the others fight. She, too old. Other elders sit around the hall, keeping the children calm and talking amongst themselves. They are used to the fighting, and they move and speak like this is any other day. There aren’t as many elders as there used to be when she was young. No, it was by some miracle that she has lived so long. Or maybe it is her curse.

As she sits, gnarled hands in her lap, a beaten walking stick leaning against the table next to her, she stares up, at the ceiling, as if she could see beyond it. Guilt is heavy inside her, and it shows through her watery, blue eyes. A tug on her arm brings her attention down. Big, green eyes are staring up at her and another stab goes through her heart. “Why can’t we go outside?” the child asks. “Why can’t I sleep at home?” The questions are so innocent, so full of confusion. The child cannot comprehend the danger yet, still too young to understand the peril the village is in.

A tired, indulgent smile presses into the wrinkles in her cheeks. “Because it’s not safe,” she explains calmly.

The tiny mouth pouts.”But _why?”_

She knows this could go on forever, the curiosity of children circling around the question of ‘why?’ until the original inquiry is forgotten. So she asks, “Why do you think?”

Their face scrunches up. “Because there are dragons outside.”

She nods. “Yes. We have to hide. It’s too dangerous outside.”

“But _why?”_ the child insists, stomping their little foot.

The woman’s eyes fill with tears, but none fall. She promised herself, and made a vow to the gods, to always tell the story. And she has, over the years, but it never gets easier. The words get heavier each time she tells them. “Okay, I’ll tell you why, but you must get the other children, too.” They nod, excited for the distraction, and they scurry off to gather the others. The handful of other elders give her pitying looks. They all know the story but are too scared to tell it. She knows, soon, that the story may die with her.

The other children start wandering over, some faster than others, and she gathers herself. “Gather round, children, gather round,” she urges, waving to those lagging behind. They pick up their pace, eagerly sitting on the stone floor in front of her. They stare up at her with wide, innocent eyes, and she tries not to feel guilt over the story she’s about to share. The other elders shuffle away. They don’t like this story, but it must be told. She grabs her walking stick and uses it to stand on shaky legs.

“Listen, children, listen.” She has everyone’s rapt attention. “This story is not a happy one, nor should it be, but it is a story that must be told. It’s a story about a lesson learned too late that cannot be forgotten.” She walks to a window, which has been barred shut with a piece of wood. The children tense. They are not allowed to touch the windows, the most important rule after staying inside when the dragons come.

She pushes at the wood, enough so the sounds from outside can be heard. “Do you hear it?” she asks, overwhelmed by what she hears for a moment. She looks at each child, letting them see her emotion. “Do you hear the cries of our kinsmnen?” she asks. “Do you hear the cries of the dragons?”

The nod, looking unsure. “When I was a child, this was not an unfamiliar sight: dragon and Viking clashing again and again.” She puts her hand to her walking stick, resting her weight on it. WIthout her pushing on the wood, the noise is muffled and she takes a breath. “Then, everything changed. Dragon and Viking learned to live in harmony. For years, there was peace.” She allows a tiny smile of remembrance, wanting to hold onto that time rather than the story she must tell. The children look skeptical and she doesn’t blame them. They’ve only known violence, only seen the bloodshed. “But this is not the tale of peace, no.” She shuffles back to her seat, every eye on her.

Once seated, a heavy breath leaves her. She sets her walking stick next to her again and rests her hands in her lap, eyes finding the ceiling again. “This is the story of a strange boy, with the soul of a dragon. And the story of a dragon, with the heart of a Viking…”

 

~ * ~

 

Hiccup grumbles and follows his dragon from the comfort of his home to the brisk air of the morning. And it is morning; the sun is starting to rise, but Hiccup would have preferred to stay in bed. All the Riders came in from the Edge late last night. The others went home, but Hiccup did a lap around the island with Toothless, just to be sure that everyone was safe. He didn’t even make it to his bed last night, collapsing as soon as he step foot in the house. He’s certain that Toothless took him to bed.

He knows he shouldn’t indulge Toothless. They came for the Festival of Ostara and Hiccup is going to be busy all day with whatever list of duties Stoick is going to give him. He should be well-rested, but Hiccup has trouble not indulging Toothless.

Especially when Toothless looks so excited. Hiccup has spent the past few weeks trying to explain Ostara to Toothless, only to be met with adorable confusion. He doesn’t understand why humans put so much weight into it. So Hiccup has resigned himself to a day full of yawning and pretending that he isn’t as tired as he is. Although, he is a little bitter that Stoick was still snoring when they snuck out of the house.

Toothless is leading him to the woods beside the village, chirping excitedly and boudning around. Hiccup smiles at his ridiculous dragon, his heart swelling. He allows his thoughts to fill with the dragon. It took time, but Hiccup has finally come to terms with the fact that he could never love anyone else as much as he loves Toothless. There’s something about Toothless that makes Hiccup feel like he could fly without his help. Hiccup is pretty sure that Toothless feels the same way. There is something special between them; Hiccup can feel it in his soul.

They are not far in the woods, but Hiccup can’t see the village anymore, when Toothless rushes off ahead. He doesn’t go far, but he retrieves something behind a bush and rushes back to Hiccup, sitting on his haunches, an excited gleam in his eye. “What’cha got there, bud?” Hiccup asks, noticing something between Toothless’ lips. Toothless stares at him for a moment then closes his eyes slowly.

Hiccup sighs, closing his eyes at the unspoken command. Toothless presses his nose into Hiccup’s chest and Hiccup brings up his hands without a second thought. Something solid is pressed into Hiccup’s palms and Toothless backs away. Hiccup opens his eyes in time to see Toothless sit fully back and wiggle in anticipation.

A smile blooms on Hiccup’s face and he looks down at what Toothless gave to him. It’s small and egg-shaped, and Hiccup is confused for a moment then his breath catches. It’s some kind of stone, but it has some natural, earthy tones wrapped around it. It’s not as polished as the eggs Hiccup has received in the past, but this is so much more meaningful. Hiccup has tried to explain the exchanging of eggs to Toothless a couple of times, but Hiccup was sure that Toothless didn’t understand.

Maybe he still doesn’t, but he knows that it’s important to Hiccup and has tried, in his own way, to honor that. Hiccup holds the egg close to his chest and smiles at his best friend. “Thank you, Toothless,” he looks down at the egg again, rolling it in his hands carefully. It won’t break; it’s stone, but it still deserves care. “It’s beautiful. I love it.”

Toothless wiggles, happy, and chirps. Hiccup steps in close, wrapping his arms around Toothless’ neck. “Really, thank you,” Hiccup whispers into warm scales. Toothless nuzzles Hiccup, inching closer. Hiccup’s chest fills with warmth and he moves closer as well. He really loves Toothless more than anything. He nuzzles him back, pulling another purr from Toothless’ chest. Toothless loves it whenever Hiccup shows it love like a dragon would. It means as much to Toothless as the egg rock means to Hiccup.

Hiccup can’t help it, he brushes his lips under Toothless’ jaw. Toothless tenses and croons questioningly at the action. Hiccup doesn’t blame him for being curious. A small kiss under the jaw is one of the most common ways that Hiccup uses to instigate something a little more physical. Hiccup may nuzzle and cuddle, but he won’t kiss unless he wants to do something more. And Hiccup doesn’t have the words to convey how much he loves Toothless; he needs to _show_ Toothless the depths of his emotion.

Toothless shuffles his feet and Hiccup looks down. The dragon’s cock is hard and peeking out of its sheath. Hiccup’s breath catches. He has a conditioned response to seeing Toothless’ cock now, because he knows that pleasure is sure to follow. It’s a far cry from the nervous anticipation that he felt when they first started doing this. Any nerves, by now, are entirely gone and Hiccup only feels excitement. Hiccup reaches down and starts palming Toothless. Toothless groans and thrusts into the contact. “We’ll have to be fast,” Hiccup whispers, a rush of adrenaline cutting through him. They haven’t ever done this on Berk before.

Toothless’ cock is already so wet and heavy in Hiccup’s hand. Hiccup won’t ever admit it out loud, but he loves to feel the weight of it inside him. The thought is enough to make Hiccup moan with pleasure, but this time he groans with frustration. “I don’t have anything. Legs will have to do, okay, bud?”

Toothless nods eagerly and Hiccup pulls back, shedding his shirt. He places his gift gently on top the pile of cloth. Toothless waits, watching Hiccup with wide eyes. Hiccup smiles, working on the ties of his pants. He’s tempted to tease Toothless, but he also wants this. And they don’t have time to drag this out. He’ll tease Toothless later.

He pushes his pants down, not bothering to step out of them before dropping to his knees. He turns his back to Toothless and goes down to his elbows. The early morning air raises goosebumps over Hiccup’s skin, but not for long.Toothless covers him with his own body, his warm chest pressing into Hiccup’s back. His cock slicks over Hiccup’s skin, so, so wet. Hiccup moans, his own arousal heavy between his legs.

He reaches back, maneuvering Toothless’ cock to slide between his thighs. Hiccup pushes his thighs together, Toothless’ cock slick and hot between his legs. He moans at the feeling. The wetness on Toothless’ cock eases the friction and Hiccup takes a moment to find his balance again. When he does, he squeezes his legs together as tightly as he can manage. Toothless thrusts, his cock rubbing against Hiccup’s own with every forward thrust, and the tapered head of his cock rubbing over the sensitive skin behind Hiccup’s balls.

Hiccup reaches forward with one hand, so he can touch one of Toothless’ front paws. This is another thing that Toothless doesn’t quite understand, but he moves his foreleg closer so Hiccup can cling to it. Hiccup squeezes around the paw in thanks, moaning, sweat coating his skin. Toothless groans and picks up his pace. He laps at Hiccup’s shoulder, nuzzling the spit-coated skin, right over the silver scar in the shape of Toothless’ teeth. That was something for Toothless that Hiccup didn’t fully understand, but Hiccup was more than happy to do it. And Hiccup loves seeing the claim on his skin.

He’s so lost in his pleasure that he doesn’t notice they’re not alone until he hears an incredulous, “Hiccup?!” That’s a voice that he _never_ wanted to hear when he’s doing this. He scrambles out from underneath Toothless, pulling his pants up as he goes, blood running cold. His stomach drops when he sees his father, not because Stoick caught him, but because he’s _not alone._ Most of the council members are with him, including Spitelout, along with Astrid and Fishlegs. Both his friends’ eyes are wide in disbelief. Astrid looks pale.

“Dad,” Hiccup says, tying up his pants. Toothless is watching the group of Vikings, tense. He almost looks like a statue with how still he is. Hiccup can see his nostrils flaring with quick breaths, though. “I can explain.”

With those words, Stoick is snapped out of his stupor. “You can explain _this?!”_ he roars, motioning towards Toothless with a wide gesture. His face is pale except for the two bright spots on his cheeks.

“Y-Yes!” Hiccup nods, matching Stoick’s volume without meaning to. He takes a breath and looks to Toothless. “I, uh… um…” He can’t say ' _It’s not what it looks like!'_ The others may not understand, but they’re not stupid. And they won’t react well to being treated like they are stupid. Hiccup gapes for a few moments, looking from Toothless to the people that caught them. He tries to find a friendly face amongst his kinsmen, but he _can’t_. “I love him,” he admits, voice soft.

Everyone reacts at once,reeling back and leaning forward, talking over one another. “He’s been cursed!” one of them yells.

“No! I--!” Hiccup yells, shaking his head, but his voice is lost in the noise.

Spitelout’s voice rises over all the others, “He’s a curse! The gods are punishing us!”

The men all mutter in agreement. One cries out, “What are we going to do?!”

They all turn to Stoick, who looks absolutely panicked, sheet-white and hands shaking. “I-I uh….” he stammers.

“We have to sacrifice him! To appease the gods!” Spitelout shouts, stepping free from the crowd. There’s a chorus of agreement that echoes behind him.

Hiccup tenses. “That’s my son!” Stoick argues, finally able to form words. Perhaps too late.

Because no one is looking at Stoick. Everyone’s attention is focused on Spitelout. “We have to appease the gods!” he yells again, louder, with more conviction. He turns to Stoick. “Hiccup is cursed! How else can we cleanse him?! Cleanse Berk?!” His voice booms through the air, leaving no room for argument.

Stoick’s mouth falls open and he looks mournfully at Hiccup and Hiccup doesn’t like that look one bit. “Toothless,” Hiccup whispers. His ears twitch towards Hiccup when he says his name, but he doesn’t turn his gaze away from the crowd. Hiccup continues, loud enough for only Toothless to hear, “You have to run. Leave. I’ll find you.” Hiccup hates that Toothless isn’t wearing his saddle, and by extension, his fin. He’s grounded. Hiccup thought they were _safe_ here.

The crowd is getting louder, egged on by Spitelout. Stoick’s gaze keeps on darting between Hiccup and Toothless. He looks sad, unlike the other men, who are red faced and still shouting. Stoick gives Hiccup an apologetic look before pushing his shoulders back and speaking over the men, “Hiccup is cursed.” He’s not shouting as loudly as Spitelout was, but his voice resonates, the shouting of the men turning into panicked mutterings. He pauses, collecting himself. There’s a tension in his neck, like it’s taking everything he has not to look Hiccup’s way. “We have to get rid of the creature that cursed him.” Stoick doesn’t look at Hiccup, but his gaze settles on Toothless. Hiccup can feel the blood draining from his face.

“No,” Hiccup whispers. Horrified. He turns fully to Toothless, not bothering to hide his desperation. “Run!”

Toothless hesitates. And it’s long enough for him to get trapped. The councilmen descend on him, wrestling him into submission, pinning his tail and limbs before they can catch any of the men. “No!” Hiccup yells, rushing to the pile of men and trying to pull them off Toothless, to give the dragon a chance to escape. Stoick’s arms wrap around Hiccup and lift him away. “No! Dad, please!”

“This is for your own good,” Stoick grunts, dragging Hiccup away.

Hiccup kicks and screams, trying to break out of Stoick’s hold. Stoick lifts Hiccup off the ground, his legs kicking into the air. “I’m sorry,” Stoick whispers, voice heavy, his hold tightening around HIccup’s middle.

Hiccup can’t see Toothless under the swarm of councilmen. Spitelout barks orders at Fishlegs and Astrid, who haven’t moved since they came across the two lovers. They run off to do what they’re told. Stoick drags Hiccup away, despite his son’s cries. Hiccup doesn’t stop fighting Stoick’s hold even as he’s dragged into the village. Stoick doesn’t stop until they’re in the center of the village, in front of the Great Hall.

It’s still early, the sun barely over the horizon, so there aren’t a lot of people awake right now, but the ones that are stop and stare at their chief and his son. They look confused, but they don’t interfere. Hiccup is still shirtless, but he doesn’t feel the cold air on his skin. “Dad, please!” Hiccup begs, his voice cracking.

Toothless is dragged into the center of the village in the next few moments. He’s struggling against some ropes that the councilmen have wrapped around him. Hiccup doesn’t know where they got the ropes, and he cries out when he sees that Toothless is muzzled. He tries to fight out of Stoick’s hold with new vigor, but he can’t break free.

By now, there’s a crowd starting to form. Those gathered are muttering to one another in confusion, but they stay back. The councilmen wrestle Toothless into submission, pinning him to the ground. They pull his wings out until Hiccup can see them straining, then pile rocks onto them to weigh them down until Toothless can’t move. Hiccup’s stomach drops. He knows that position, and he can’t let them do this to Toothless.

Out of the corner of his eye, Hiccup can see Stormfly and Meatlug flying in. There’s a moment of heart-stopping relief. The other dragons are going to help him. They won’t let their Queen die. But Toothless screeches, surprisingly loud considering that he’s been muzzled, and the dragons stop.

“No, no, no, no, no, no,” Hiccup pants, fear rushing through him again. “Don’t stop them.” He’s so quiet that he can barely hear himself. Meatlug and Stormfly look conflicted, frozen in place, then they start to back away. “No! Don’t stop them!” Hiccup yells, struggling against Stoick. “Let them help you! Save yourself, you _stupid dragon!”_ Tears are streaming down Hiccup’s face and it feels like a spike is piercing his chest. “Let them **_help you_** _!”_

Stormfly and Meatlug look between Hiccup and Toothless, torn. Another growl from Toothless has them backing down completely. Hiccup screams. They can’t _do_ this to him. They can’t. “Berkians!” Spitelout bellows, standing in front of Toothless, hands raised. His voice is barely louder than Hiccup’s screams. Attention shifts to Spitelout. “This creature has cursed Hiccup.” There’s a ripple of shock through the crowd. “The demon must be sacrificed,” Spitelout continues, arms still raised, “so the gods may forgive us.” The crowd gets louder, looking at one another and chattering in panic.

“Look at him,” Spitelout orders, his voice grave and pointing towards Hiccup. Gasps from the crowd. “To rid Hiccup of his curse, we must sacrifice the creature that has cursed him.”

“No! Please!” Hiccup sobs, struggling against Stoick. “Toothless is not a curse!” Stoick’s grip tightens around Hiccup, crushing his ribs and forcing him to gasp. “No, Dad, please!” Hiccup wheezes, clawing at Stoick’s arm as best as he can. Stoick has pinned his arms to his side, but with Hiccup’s struggling, his grip has moved a bit and Hiccup has some mobility in his arms. It's still not enough.

Spitelout ignores the outburst and searches for someone in the crowd. “Get my axe and dagger,” he orders when he spots someone. Hiccup’s heart shatters when he sees that he’s talking to Snotlout. Snotlout looks petrified, frozen in place with his eyes wide. “Now!” Spitelout snaps, jarring Snotlout into motion. He moves quickly, head down and shoulders rigid.

“Snotlout, please! Please don’t!” Hiccup calls after him, but Snotlout’s steps do not falter. If anything, they speed up. He disappears from Hiccup’s sight for a few minutes, then he’s back with his hands full of the tools Spitelout has asked for. Snotlout’s eyes are fixed on the ground as he hands the tools to his father. He doesn’t look up when he steps back to join the crowd. “He’s your friend too!” Hiccup shrieks. Snotlout flinches and his shoulders hunch up to his ears. “Don’t let him do this!” Hiccup begs. “Please! Stop this!”

He thrashes, but he can’t break free. Spitelout turns to the dragon, holding the dagger high. “We deliver this cursèd beast before you, begging your forgiveness!” he calls into the air.

The only sounds are the cries from Hiccup, begging them to stop. Spitelout stays in place, like the gods are speaking directly to him. Hiccup pleads to his back, needing Spitelout to stop. Then Spitelout moves, putting the tip of his dagger to the back of Toothless’ neck. “Don’t hurt him!” Hiccup sobs, tears blurring his vision. Spitelout’s grip falters on the dagger, the scales on the back of Toothless’ neck too thick to pierce one-handed. He holds his axe out to a council member, who takes the weapon without a word. Spitelout adjusts the grip he has on the dagger, wrapping both hands around the hilt. There’s a moment that stretches on forever for Hiccup. He can see Spitelout’s muscles bunch up and move, putting all his weight into the dagger, and he watches the weapon sink into Toothless’ neck. Toothless screeches in pain. “No! Toothless!”

Spitelout doesn’t let up, cutting down Toothless’ back, along his spine. His grunts with the effort it takes to cut through the thick hide on Toothless’ back. Hiccup can’t form words anymore, screaming so loud his throat is already threatening to give out. Spitelout doesn’t stay his knife, cutting through the skin and flesh of Toothless’ back in an L shape. Then he peels both flaps back, exposing his ribs. The ribs are pink, red blood over white bone and Hiccup knows he’s trapped in a nightmare. Spitelout drops the dagger, the blade sinking into the ground. He holds his hand out for his axe, his fingers stained red. The blood on his fingers has him fumbling with the grip of his axe for a moment. Then it steadies. He doesn’t hesitate, holding the axe up and bringing it down on Toothless’ ribs, severing bone from the spine. Toothless wails, his legs giving out underneath him.

When Toothless falls, Hiccup slumps in Stoick’s hold, finally silent, limp. He can’t tear his eyes away from what’s happening to Toothless.There are no sounds beyond Spitelout’s axe striking bone. The crowd is silent, the trees don’t move. It doesn’t even sound like the ocean is moving.

When Spitelout is done, he takes a moment to breathe, his axe falling to the ground, the blade sinking into it like the dagger. He stares at what he’s done for a moment, his fingers flexing at his sides. Then he reaches for the ribs he’s exposed and broken, grabbing onto the bone and pulling them upward and outward. _Crack_ goes one, the sound stabbing Hiccup in the gut. _Snap_ goes the second, somehow louder than the first. _Crack, crack, snap, snap, snap_ until they’re sticking straight into the air. Toothless whines at every rib being pulled up. Hiccup can’t breathe. The exposed ribs look like barren, heat-scorched trees. “Dad, please,” Hiccup whispers, unable to yell anymore. Although he knows it’s useless; his cries fell onto deaf ears, and no one will hear him now. “Please, stop this.” He knows that no one will listen, but he has to try, all the way to the end.

Toothless is crying out, his sounds muffled because of the muzzle, but no less heartbreaking to hear. Hiccup can’t imagine the pain Toothless is feeling. His heart is broken in his chest. Deep, red blood coats Spitelout’s hands, like long gloves. He leans back, wiping his hands on his tunic, leaving behind red streaks. His hands are still so red. Toothless whimpers when Spitelout finishes. Hiccup can see him shaking. “Please, please, stop this,” Hiccup mumbles, tears streaming down his face.

Spitelout reaches into Toothless’ back, this time blood coating his arm to his elbow. When he pulls his arm out, there’s an expanding, bright pink organ in his hand. He drapes it along Toothless’ back, then reaches in again and pulls out the matching one.

“Toothless,” Hiccup babbles, beyond begging for mercy now, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I love you. Gods, I love you.” Stoick’s arms tighten at the confession, but Hiccup barely notices it. Toothless’ lungs expand and contract with each shuddering breath he makes. It’s obscene to see Toothless like this. Hiccup would throw up if he could feel anything other than devastation.

Spitelout bends and tries to retrieve his dagger, but the handle keeps on slipping out of his grip, the hilt turning blood red with every attempt. “Give me your dagger,” Spitelout snaps at the closest Viking, after trying to remove his from the ground with no success. The Viking hands over his dagger without a word, and the handle settles in Spitelout’s grip. He stares down at Toothless, his breathing deep and even, his knuckles white around the handle of the stranger’s dagger.

He moves quickly, but to Hiccup it feels like a lifetime. Spitelout grabs one lung, crushing it under his grip, pushing the air out of Toothless, and cuts through its only attachment in one move. Toothless gasps, his other lung expanding fully to compensate. Spitelout tosses the lung in his hand over his shoulder then turns his attention to the remaining lung. He gives it the same treatment.

There’s a moment of absolute stillness. Nothing happens for one, horrible moment that stretches for years. Then Toothless starts gasping, desperately trying to fill lungs that are no longer there. Hiccup watches in horror, his own breath hitching in his chest. He wishes he could give Toothless his breath, because watching Toothless struggle is more than Hiccup can bear.

It only takes minutes for Toothless to collapse, but it’s an eternity for Hiccup. And the final moment for Toothless sears into Hiccup’s mind; green eyes wide, pinned wings trying to break free, tail thrashing around, white ribs pointing to the sky, and the rattling croak of his final moment. When Toothless slumps into a lifeless heap, Stoick lets Hiccup go. He falls to his knees, eyes locked on the body of someone who was so full of life just hours ago. Eyes locked on the one who gave Hiccup an Ostara egg, even though he didn’t understand.

The silence echoes around them. No one speaks, there’s no breeze, the birds are silent, and the sun is covered by darkening clouds. Hiccup stares at the lump that was once his best friend, the love of his life. And he can’t breathe. Everyone seems to be holding their breath, unsure of what to do next.

Then, a scream, pulled from the deepest part inside Hiccup, shatters the silence. The trees sway with the force of Hiccup’s sorrow, wind spinning and pushing grown men over. Everything hurts. There is no peace. Hiccup claws at his chest, but he can’t feel anything there. Tears flow from Hiccup’s eyes, dripping to the ground beneath him, the dirt lifted by the wind sticking to his wet cheeks.

Hiccup, hands still clawing at his chest and anguished tears staining his face, turns his face to the sky, wailing one last time, his sorrow shaking the very earth, and he slumps forward into a heap. His anguish echoing in the impossible silence that follows his final wail, long after his body turns cold.

 

~ * ~

 

The children’s eyes are wide, filled with fear and despair. “His scream echoed into the sky,” she continues, eyes wet. “Then the dragons screamed. Any wearing a saddle tore it from their backs and took to the air. The sound of their screams was deafening and unholy. They tried to take the boy with them, but he was already dead.” She has to take a breath. It shakes as she exhales. “The chief could not move, could not look away from his only son.” She pauses, a tear falling down her wrinkled face. “He was the first one killed.”

“This isn’t real,” one of the children interrupts. One of the older children, still too young and small to fight, but old enough to see the terror in the younger ones and try to ease it.

The woman shakes her head, her face older than her years. “This story is as real as you or me.” She wishes that it wasn’t. The children still look at her with disbelief. “Do you know the spot in front of the Hall?” she asks, voice kind. “The place where the grass doesn’t grow? Where the dagger is stuck in the ground, black spreading around the embedded blade?” The children nod, horror on their little faces. “Those spots, those monuments are from the gods, a reminder of our curse.”

She makes sure to look at every child before she continues. “Our people are cursed to be forever at war with the dragons, until our end. Or theirs.” The children share looks. The woman wishes her tale had a happier ending. “We must not forget. It is my own curse, to tell this story. We can never be cleansed of our sin against the gods. It is why, on days when the wind stands still and Vikings are not fighting, we can still hear the scream of the boy who loved a dragon.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry.... 
> 
> I will try to offer a quick response to any trauma. Please leave your comments, I am here for support. 
> 
> My beta, [ putmoneyinthypurse](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/955773/PutMoneyInThyPurse) is also here for support. This will take you to FFN to PM her if you want.  
> Here she is on Ao3 [ sarahenany](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahenany/pseuds/sarahenany)
> 
> Comments are always welcome! And kudos! I'm here.  
> As promised, the light fic if you need something to brighten your day after this fic: [ In Which New Territories Are Explored](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17068946)


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